


No Time Like the Present

by PhiraLovesLoki



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, F/M, Light Angst, Season/Series 03, Season/Series 06, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2019-09-07 08:52:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16851016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhiraLovesLoki/pseuds/PhiraLovesLoki
Summary: Emma just wants her space after the events of Dark Hollow. She doesn't really want to talk to Hook right now. But he's insistent on talking to her anyway, and acting strange besides ... could this be a trick of Neverland?





	No Time Like the Present

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to Tumblr, adding to AO3 now. Could honestly be canon compliant, but we'll call it divergence for funsies.

Emma found a nice little clearing with a comfortably looking bed of moss underneath a tree. The feeling of seclusion was almost cosy, like this little space was magically protected from the rest of Neverland and all of the dangerous crap it hosted. Just to be sure, she still checked for dreamshade, but there was none in sight.

She plopped down on the moss and sighed. Alone with her thoughts at last.

She’d made it explicitly clear that if  _anyone_  followed her, she would physically hurt them. She just needed to clear her head after all that had happened: David lying about  _dying,_  Mary Margaret wanting another kid so they could get everything  _right_  this time, Hook having  _feelings_  for her, Neal being  _alive._

The last two things in particular were grating. Neal had missed the whole point of her secret, which was that she  _didn’t_  want to have him in her life anymore. Great, he was alive and could have a relationship with Henry if they ever got home safely, but he was ignoring every hint she could throw at him about how little she wanted to try to fix  _their_ relationship.

Hook was weirdly less annoying, if only because she wouldn’t mind climbing him like a tree once everything was said and done (and from the whole “That’s when the fun begins” bit, she figured he’d let her). But she didn’t have time for  _romance_  and  _feelings_ , and so unless she could set that boundary and keep it in place, there would be no figurative tree-climbing.

But the two things together–Neal wanting to fix things with her and Hook wanting to win her over–had almost killed all three of them and lost their chance of getting out of Neverland. So as far as she was concerned, if anyone decided to ignore her insistence on being alone, it had better be those two.

And yet she still wasn’t surprised when Hook stumbled into the clearing. “I  _said_  I wanted to be alone,” she reminded him. “Do you have a fucking death wish?”

“What?” he asked, clearly confused.

“What do you mean, ‘What?’“

“How–how are you  _here?”_  he asked instead.

“What’s  _wrong_  with you?”

“Emma, how did you get here?” His question was firmer, voice filled with more suspicion.

“Are you drunk or something?” He wasn’t making any sense at all, but besides that, he didn’t seem drunk or look drunk. Although … “Where’d you get new clothes?”

He looked down at himself. “New? I know I haven’t worn it yet, but this is the one you bought me two weeks ago.”

“Oh, I get it. This is one of Pan’s tricks.”

“Pan’s tricks,” he parroted back. “You don’t think I’m real.”

“Well, you’re dressed in modern clothes and you don’t seem to know why I don’t want you here,” she pointed out. “So you’re obviously not the Hook I left back at camp.”

He seemed to realize she’d seen through the illusion, and he nodded. “You’re cross with me over the Dark Hollow.”

Hm, how could Pan know about that? Or maybe this was just a weird manifestation of her own imagination. After all, more than once, she’d imagined what Hook would look like if he gave up the pirate duds. So, Neverland magic plus her own imagination equaled smokin’ hot Hook in the tightest jeans she’d ever seen.

“Yeah,” she said. If she was going to take to her own imagination, at least she was in private. “All three of us almost died because of the two of you.”

“I know.” He gestured at the moss. “May I sit?”

“Knock yourself out.” She shifted a bit to give him enough room, and he dropped down beside her. This imaginary Hook even smelled pretty good; a little sweaty and dirty, like he’d been running around a bit and hadn’t gotten to a shower in a while, but that was the case here, too. And even then, there was still this spicy, salty scent, like he wore some kind of pirate-themed cologne.

“I know your past with Neal runs deep,” he said softly. “Not that it’s not without pain or suffering. Just that your history with him carries weight. And knowing how much he hurt you, and the way it’s shaped your life … it can make a man make some wrong decisions about how to behave.”

This weirdly introspective speech was  _not_  what she was expecting. “What does  _that_  mean?”

He sighed. “It means that instead of respecting that you don’t have to make  _any_  romantic decisions on this island, or accepting that what’s between the two of you should not affect what’s between the two of us, I felt it necessary to prove myself, to turn what should have been an important mission into a competition. And I’m sorry.”

Wow. That was like … exactly what her problem with him had been. Not that she would have been able to articulate it  _that_  well, but that was  _exactly_  it.

“Well, thanks.” She stretched out her legs a bit. Now she just needed  _Neal_  to apologize, too, and she could relax completely. Or at least as much as she could relax until they’d saved Henry and gotten home.

“I did mean what I said, though,” he added.

“The dumbass comment about not arguing over a lighter?”

He laughed. “No. About winning your heart.”

She sighed. “Hook …”

“I will, Emma.” He reached into his coat and pulled out … was that a fucking engagement ring? “I want you to look at this ring, Swan. I want you to remember what it looks like. Because you’ll be seeing it again.”

The ring in her hand felt real. Solid. Warm from the heat of his body. It was simple and very traditional, although she knew a rock that big couldn’t be cheap.

“And you’re  _so_  sure I’ll say yes?” she asked with a smirk as she passed the ring back.

His face darkened and he turned away. “I hope so. I  _think_  so.”

She snorted, and instantly regretted it from the way he winced. “Why?” she asked. “I mean, if you’ve won my heart, why would I say no?”

“It’s complicated.”

“I’m not planning on heading back for a bit. I’ve got time.”

“No. I’ve probably already said and done too much.”

“What do you mean?”

Instead of answering, he turned back to her and–oh, she was  _not_  expecting him to kiss her. Shouldn’t she have been, given all the stuff he just said? But it didn’t matter, because this was so much better than when she’d kissed him. It was softer, like he  _loved_  her, like she was precious, and–no, now there was tongue, and this was starting to feel like the other kiss, and not in a bad way, and good, this coat still had lapels to grab onto and–

He pulled back, looking dazed and regretful. “I love you,” he whispered.

And he wasn’t lying.

She was stunned into silence as he rose from the moss bed, gave her one last glance, and left the clearing.

Once she remembered how legs worked, she stumbled to her feet and back to camp. Sure enough, Hook was there, dressed the way he was always dressed, and while he gave her a sheepish glance, it didn’t seem like he had any idea of what she’d just experienced.

Had the clearing been a weird, magic clearing that made weird manifestations of Hook show up?  _Had_  it been a trick from Pan to throw her off? Had she fallen asleep, had a weird dream, and then woken up, all without feeling like she’d fallen asleep  _or_ woken up?

God, she needed to get off this island.

* * *

Emma wasn’t sure why Killian had been acting so weird lately. Ever since she’d gotten back from that wish realm, something was up. Her suspicions had been confirmed when he’d admitted he’d been seeing Archie, but she  _thought_  that they’d left things at an okay place after that conversation.

And then he’d come home that night all antsy and anxious, and with the amount of alcohol he’d been drinking, something was  _definitely_ wrong.

He’d even been way less neat and tidy over the past few days. This was the guy who gave Henry a hard time about leaving a dish in the sink and who gave her a pointed look if she so much as dropped  _one_  item of dirty clothing on the floor.

And yet today, just as an example, he hadn’t made the bed, he’d left the toothpaste on the bathroom counter, and he’d even left a substantial pile of dirty clothes on the floor.

She sighed. Well, whatever was going on that he was refusing to talk to her about, she could clean up after him a bit. Taking care of each other–that’s what couples did. And she  _wanted_  to. She loved that she wanted to.

So when she got home from work, she made the bed. She straightened up the bathroom. She put away his clothes.

But the pile wasn’t as bad as she thought it was. Half of the height had been from his sea chest, which had been underneath. Why was it on the floor when it was supposed to go on his dresser?

She reached down to put it back in its proper place, but it wasn’t latched, and the lid flipped open.

And right there, at the top, was a ring.

Emma froze.

Not  _a_  ring.  _The_  ring.

The clearing in Neverland.

It had been real, somehow.

Oh god, it had been real! Somehow, Killian from  _now_  had appeared to her in Neverland way back when. It must have been some kind of magic clearing that let them interact across time?

It  _was_  the best explanation. He knew exactly what to say about the whole Dark Hollow mess, because they’d  _talked_  about it after they’d started dating. He’d been wearing modern clothes, including the jacket she’d recently bought for him. He’d kissed her like he loved her … he’d  _told_  her he loved her. And he’d meant it.

This was the same ring.

He’d been worried that she was going to say no. He hadn’t been sure she’d say yes.

 _That_  explained why he’d been acting so weird lately! He was going to ask her to marry him and he was scared she’d say no. That was it. Even the conversation about Archie made a ton more sense.

Her heart raced, and she had to catch her breath. This was happening. This was  _really_  happening. The man she loved wanted to marry her, and he was gearing up to ask her.

She had to just show him that there was no risk, that she’d say yes, that there was nothing to fear when he asked her the question.

She was halfway to the stairs when she heard him come in.

No time like the present.


End file.
